Part of USS Polaris: S2E2. Alone in the Night (Interlude)

Away into the Night

Bridge and Crew Quarters, USS Polaris
Mission Day 6 - 0205 Hours
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Wispy clouds whirled and blue seas sparkled, lit by the cool blue gleam of the young Herbig Ae/Be star flickering 6.7 AU away. By the wall clock, it was the dead of the night, but space was a curious thing. It was always bright, if you had the right frame of reference. Standing center on the wide bridge, Gorion VII looked absolutely brilliant from their position 30,000 kilometers overhead. It reminded Lieutenant Commander Elena Mattson a bit of the view from the Sol Station operations center, her first assignment out of the Academy back in 2384. The Polaris was far smaller than the Federation’s pinnacle starbase, yet somehow, it felt almost as complicated. Her role was also far more expansive than it’d been over Earth all those years ago.

Vespara had been her first mission as Chief Operations Officer of Polaris, and it had put her to the test. Frankly, it had tested all of them. The gravity of the situation, the fate of a civilization hanging in the balance, it hung heavy over them, and the logistics of organizing a planet-wide evacuation while fighting an aberrant singularity, it was a massive effort to manage… and that was before the Klingons had turned their disruptors on the Polaris.

As Lieutenant Commander Mattson looked past the planet and the massive spaceframe of Archanis Station, her thoughts drifted to those who hadn’t been as lucky. What had become of the Serenity and the Ingenuity? She hadn’t been with the squadron long enough to have really gotten to know Captain Lewis, Commander Lee, or their crews, but still, her heart pained for them. Had they escaped the Underspace as it collapsed? Were they slowly limping back from parts unknown? She hoped their story would be like that of the USS Voyager, not the USS Hera.

Suddenly, the turbolift behind the command island whooshed open, puncturing the solitude of the silence. Lieutenant Commander Mattson turned to see Fleet Admiral Allison Reyes, their squadron commander, stepping onto the bridge. Immediately, she straightened up, as did the only other officer on the bridge, a Bolian lieutenant seated at the conn.

“As you were,” Admiral Reyes said nonchalantly. She wasn’t here to assume command from Elena Mattson, nor to bark orders at the Bolian flight controller, but both were at rigid attention like fresh cadets just called into the commandant’s office. “Really, at ease, both of you.”

Both officers loosened up, but only slightly. 

“Ok, seriously, don’t mind me,” Admiral Reyes insisted as she plopped herself down casually in the chair usually reserved for Fleet Captain Gérard Devreux. “I’m just here to read the latest edition of the Subspace Science Digest under the starlight of the Meronia Cluster.” As if to accentuate her claim, she swung her legs over one armrest and nestled her back against the other, curling up with her PADD like she was in a cozy lounge chair, not her first officer’s duty station.

Odd, thought Lieutenant Commander Mattson to herself. Wouldn’t the view be equally phenomenal from her suite? She knew better, though, than to question a Fleet Admiral, and instead she settled with some gentle hospitality. “Can I… can I get you anything, ma’am?”

Admiral Reyes furled her brow. “Elena, you’re the Officer of the Watch for a kilometer-length marvel of modern technology, and you’re most certainly not the orderly of a washed up admiral. If I need some tea or crumpets, you tell my lazy ass to get them myself.” Long ago, she’d been not all that different from the young lieutenant commander, but she hadn’t risen to her post by shining the shoes of the admiralty. And she wanted better for Elena Mattson too.

“Yes… I… umm…” Lieutenant Commander Mattson fumbled, struggling to reorient herself. How was one even supposed to respond to something like that? She was just trying to be kind. “Yes, ma’am.” 

The message received, she forced herself, as weird as it felt, to turn her back on the admiral and return to what she was doing. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling the admiral was watching her… but watching for what? They were just sitting stationary alongside Archanis Station. They had nothing to do except to wait for something to do. 

Maybe she’d run some system diagnostic in the meantime? She pulled up the latest system report for the impulse drives. All good there. Then it was off to a review of the warp assembly. All good there as well, and no surprise for either. Commander Lars Bauer kept both in far better condition than that unruly mat of hair on his head. Just as she was about to move onto a health check of the EPS grid though, her combadge chirped to life.

“Flight deck to bridge.”

“Mattson here,” she replied, welcoming the interruption. “Go ahead.”

“I have runabout Calvera requesting departure clearance.”

“Curious,” Lieutenant Commander Mattson replied. “I don’t recall anything tonight for Calvera.” She’d just reviewed the schedule when she assumed command of the bridge. “Do you have anything on file?” It’s been a few hours since she looked. Maybe something had changed?

Behind her, Admiral Reyes casually set down her PADD.

“No ma’am. Nothing on file.”

Whether it was a late night joyride or a critical mission, it didn’t really matter though. No paperwork meant no flying. “Inform Calvera,” began Lieutenant Commander Mattson, “that they’ll need to file…”

“Belay that,” came the commanding voice of the admiral as she rose from the first officer’s chair. “This is Fleet Admiral Reyes. You are to clear the Calvera for immediate departure.” Suddenly, it was very clear who was in command.

“Ma’am, we don’t have anything on file for their…”

“Flight deck, do I need to repeat myself?” Admiral Reyes asked sternly. “It was an order, not a request.” The expression on her face was no longer relaxed. Now, it was firm and unwavering.

“We just… ummm… oh, no, sorry ma’am. Clearing Calvera for immediate departure.”

“Very good. Reyes out.”

Lieutenant Commander Mattson stared at the older woman with confusion, but Admiral Reyes’ eyes didn’t so much as meet her gaze. Instead, they were fixed forward upon the main viewscreen, almost as if she was waiting for something. 

Slowly, the Arrow-class runabout that Admiral Reyes had just cleared for departure appeared on the screen and crossed their bow. It moved slowly at first, but then, as it put some distance between itself and the busy airspace of the planet, the station and the squadron, it began to accelerate. And then its warp drive came to life, and it leapt forth, vanishing from view.

Admiral Reyes whispered a single word under her breath: “Godspeed.” 

Without further explanation, she then turned and departed the bridge, the PADD still on Captain Devreux’s chair. This never was about reading Subspace Science Digest, but what then was it about? Lieutenant Commander Mattson just stood there, more questions than answers.

Down below deck, Lieutenant Emilia Balan had just returned to her quarters. She too had unanswered questions. Over warm coals and flavorful shisha, she’d been having a delightful time with the usually guarded Ayala Shafir. And she’d thought Ayala was too, right up until… until she went to take that call, and then she never came back. 

Why couldn’t she have at least said she needed to go? That would’ve been the normal thing to do. The decent thing to do. But no, she’d just vanished. Was it something she’d said? Or was it something more ominous, something related to the dark matters on her mind?

As she crossed her quarters, Lieutenant Balan looked over at her wall. The console fitted into its center was blinking with a notification. She walked up to it. “Computer, display message.”

It was just a few simple words:

A night I didn’t know I wanted,
And a friend I didn’t know I needed.
When next the universe allows,
A Klingon opera perhaps?

The first two lines and the last, they made her smile. But that third line, there was something odd about it. It didn’t make sense. Why would the universe have to allow it? Couldn’t they just meet at the Northern Lights Lounge or down on the holodeck again. They were, after all, on the same ship… wait, who was that caller on the other side, and what’d they said? Had something happened? Did she need help? “Computer, locate Chief Shafir.”

“Chief Petty Officer Ayala Shafir is not aboard the USS Polaris.”

Wait, what? Not aboard the ship? How was that possible? They’d just been together, not even an hour earlier. “Then where is she?”

“Chief Petty Officer Ayala Shafir departed on the runabout Calvera at 0210 hours.”

Just a couple minutes ago. But why? Lieutenant Balan looked out the window of her quarters, almost as if hoping to see the runabout off their bow. Of course, there was nothing though. Her view was dominated by the glowing blue seas of Gorian VII and the sparkling superstructure of Archanis Station, and a small runabout, not even four dozen meters in length, would never be discernible against the backdrop. “Where was she headed?”

“Unknown.”

“What did the Calvera’s departure paperwork say?”

“There is no departure filing on record for the runabout Calvera.”

Huh? How? Whether an emergency medevac or a sightseeing expedition, paperwork was a universal guarantee. Everyone had to do it – except the chief, this time, for some reason. Why? Where was she going? What’d happened that had caused her to drop everything and leave?